


Love Is All You Need

by millijayne13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Pining, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:09:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27336196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millijayne13/pseuds/millijayne13
Summary: Request: Okay one more cause I love you’re writing. Can you do a George x Reader friends to lovers trope with fluff prompts 5 and 14?? I appreciate you and everything you do!
Relationships: George Weasley/Original Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	Love Is All You Need

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> Warnings: mentions of an argument, mentions of arranged marriages, but it really is a load of fluff.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!

You aren’t sure how often you’ve knocked on his door; raised your fist and brayed it against the fading red paint that George always promises he’ll paint over but never does.

It’s no different now as you stand before his door, knocking three times before taking a step back. You glance on either side of you; biting your lip, second-guessing your decision to come here instead of blowing off steam another way.

“(Y/N)?” George greets; opening the door to your harried state, “What’s wrong?”

You blink away the fresh wave of tears; you thought you had cried yourself dry but the familiar burn in the back of your throat proves otherwise. “Can I come in?” You whisper; pointing into the flat he shares with his twin.

George nods; standing aside to let you enter. He won’t outrightly tell you that he’s worried; he’s sure you already know.

“I’m sorry for just showing up,” You mutter; looking down at your hands, shuffling from side to side.

George waves away your apology after shutting the door, “Don’t be. You’re always welcome here.”

You nod your head; throwing yourself onto his couch dramatically only to sit up immediately when you realise the lack of presence of his twin. “Where’s Fred?” You ask.

“At Angelina’s,” George calls, heading to the small kitchen, “Do you want some tea?”

“Love some.” You shout back over the sound of now heating kettle.

George leaves the kitchen; letting the kettle boil. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed. With a soft expression on his face, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You raise an eyebrow, “What makes you think something is wrong?”

George scoffs, “Come on now, love. I’ve known you since Third Year, I know when something is bothering you.”

You sigh heavily, “It’s my parents.”

“What happened?”

You go to open your mouth, but you’re interrupted by the kettle beginning to whistle. George holds up a single finger; telling you to hold that thought as he makes the tea. He’s back in no time, however – handing you your mug before settling on the couch next to you.

With a nod of his head, George tells you to continue.

“I know they mean well, and I know they want the best for me but…” You trail off; feeling that all too familiar lump start to form in your throat.

“But?” George prompts after a moment of silence.

“But I just wish they would stop pushing.”

“On what?”

You throw your arms out wide; almost spilling your tea, “On everything! They’ve never been happy with the fact that I chose to become a professor instead of working in the ministry. They never accepted the fact that I was sorted into Gryffindor and not Slytherin like the both of them. To top it all off, they hate the fact they can’t control me.”

George chuckles lightly; placing a hand on your knee, “Love, tell me something I don’t already know.”

You glare at him, “That’s not the worst part.”

“What is?”

Tears build in your eyes; lining them with silver, “They want me to marry,” You rush out in hushed tones.

“Marry?” George asks; voice astounded.

You nod your head; tears slipping, “They’ve got it all fixed apparently. Found a ‘lovely’ suitor; someone I’m sure to love in time,” You frown, “In time? No. I should already be in love with them if I’m to marry them.”

George sighs; taking both your mugs and placing them gently on the coffee table, “You don’t have to marry them.”

“That’s what I told my parents. That’s why I’m here.”

“How bad was it?”

You laugh mirthlessly, “Bad. I’ve never seen them so angry; kept telling me that the betrothal was already arranged and that for me to back out now would be a stain on the family name. After that, I walked out. I didn’t want to see them.”

“So you came straight to me?”

You nod; slumping against the redhead as the fight leaves your body, leaving you drained and tired. “I didn’t want to see anyone else; I only wanted to see you.”

George’s heart practically sings at your words; sending a shock of electricity through his body. He’s harboured feelings for you for as long as he can remember; he wouldn’t admit this to another soul, but he has spent so long daydreaming what it would be like to the be the one to hold you on a night and then to be the one whispering good morning before kissing you awake.

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, asking, “What do you plan to do?”

You shrug your shoulders, “The only thing I’m certain of is not going through with the marriage, but I don’t know what will happen with my parents.”

“They need time to cool off,” George comforts, “You all do.”

You nod wordlessly. George shuffles closer to you; wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Do you want to stay the night? Talk to them in the morning?”

You peak up at George from under your lashes. Nodding, you answer, “Please.”

George nods, smiling at you reassuringly, **“Take my bed for the night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”**

You shake your head; holding onto the redhead that little bit tighter, “Stay with me?”

His eyes narrow; unsure, “Are you sure? I don’t mind, it’s quite a comfy couch.”

You roll your eyes at his attempt at humour, standing from said couch and checking the clock, “I’m sure. Let’s go to bed, George.”

George takes your outstretched hand; pulling himself up from the couch. You’re both exceptionally quiet as he leads you to his room; it’s not like you haven’t been in there before, but this meant something more to the both of you.

Dropping your hand, George rifles through his drawers, grabbing some old clothes of his for you to wear through the night.

“Are these okay?” He asks quietly; holding out an old t-shirt and some joggers.

You take them from him; rising up on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Pulling away, you whisper, “Thank you, George.”

Shutting the door to the bathroom, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. The upset and the anger caused by your parents has dissipated leaving behind only excitement and anticipation alight in your eyes. You didn’t think that George would agree to sharing a bed with you despite having done so in the past, but you didn’t want to be alone, and all you wanted more than anything was to be held by him.

The reflection in the mirror smiles at the hope in your face. The reason for being so adamant with your parents about the arranged marriage was that you had already given your heart to another, and he was just outside the door getting ready for bed. Your heart was never stolen by the Weasley; in fact, you gave it quite willingly, handing it over to him unknowingly through your time with him at Hogwarts.

He’s owned your heart and has been the main character in all of your daydreams since you were a teenager worried about essays and Quidditch try outs.

You put George’s t-shirt on; inhaling the familiar scent of gunpowder and honeysuckle.

Leaving the bathroom, you find that George has already slipped into bed. He’s pressed himself against the wall; giving you the option of wanting to leave the bed should you change your mind through the night.

You share a small laugh as you slide into bed next to him; settling under the covers, feeling more at ease now than you had all night.

“It’s going to be okay,” George whispers.

“I know, I believe you,” You reply, and you did. You believe him wholeheartedly; he may throw pranks and make jokes, but George is well aware when he needs to be serious and is always there with open arms and a patient ear.

You feel his shrug under the covers, “Besides, if not, we’ll run away together.”

Smiling, you answer, “An entirely too tempting idea, Weasley.”

He beams at you and with a flick of a switch, George turns out the light and the room is sent into darkness.

There’s something about the dark that makes men brave; that make it easier to confront truths and feelings. There’s something about the dark that is made for lovers; grazes of fingers and the brushes of lips.

It starts with an outstretch of hands; fingers bumping clumsily in the limited light of the room. Smile grow on both faces as they become tangled; his fingers wrapping around yours tightly.

It follows with him bringing your hand to his lips; placing a gentle kiss on the back of it before letting it drop back down to the space between you both.

In the dark, George finally whispers what’s been on the tip of his tongue since you announced it, “Don’t marry him. Fight it, please.”

You turn onto your side. You can just about make out the outline of his figure in the dark, but you don’t need to see his face to know that those words cost him. Even though can’t see you, you shake your head, “I’ll fight it tooth and nail.”

George releases a long sigh; his hand squeezes yours as he says, “I want a chance.”

“A chance at what?” You ask; throat constricting with the hope rushing up from your stomach.

“A chance to be with you,” He whispers; the words taking shape and filling the room. He runs a hand down his face, “Merlin, (Y/N), I’m mad for you.”

“You are?”

He nods; moving closer to you. You meet him halfway; almost startling when you feel his body align itself with yours.

“I’m mad for you too as it happens,” You comment lightly; your voice filled with emotion.

The thick tension leaves the room upon the uttering of your words leaving behind an atmosphere filled with relief and happiness. George laughs as he turns onto his side, utterly delighted at your words; tangled hands forgotten as he reaches for you. One of his hands slips underneath you as the other wraps around your waist; he holds you to him, pressing kiss after kiss to your hair.

You fist a hand in his t-shirt; the other one slipping underneath, running your nails across the toned expanse of his stomach. He shivers at the feel of your touch, twining your legs together so there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching.

Tilting your head back, you run your nose up the length of his neck. Humming at the intoxicating scent of his skin – the honeysuckle stronger, the closer you are to him.

“George?”

He hums; arms instinctively tightening around you, “Yes?”

A wicked grin breaks out across your face; all thoughts about parents and marriage disappear as you look into the face of the man you love and ask, **“How about a kiss?”**

George doesn’t need to be asked twice.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


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